


A Surprise Visitor

by Missintroverted



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Mullet Stan Pines, Pining, References to Drugs, Smoking, Swearing, Trans Male Character, Young Ford Pines, Young Stan Pines, Young Stan Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missintroverted/pseuds/Missintroverted
Summary: After Stan escaped prison, he finds his old friend, Miko, and shows up at his doorstep. Miko, despite not knowing about his friend's whereabouts for 5 years, accepts him back right away.So when Ford sends a certain postcard, Miko is sure as fuck not letting him go alone.
Relationships: Stan Pines/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	A Surprise Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @lazy–stars and their OC Miko. You can check out his Tumblr, he has the most tooth-rottingly sweet self-ship and a lot of great drawings of the Stan Bros:
> 
> https://lazy--stars.tumblr.com/

The road to Gravity Falls was slick with snow, and the El Diablo and its driver were forced to, for the first time since Miko had ever been driving with Stan, go under the speed limit to avoid flying off the roads.

The two men were driving in comfortable silence. Miko stared out the window, watching snowflakes dances around and leave white dots on the glass. Large trees loomed on either side of the road, two massive walls that almost felt as if they were closing in the farther in they drove.

Ever since they had gotten on these roads that could fit right at home in a slasher film, Miko had begun to get a creeping chill up his spine, and for once it wasn’t from the cold. He had forced Stan to accept his money and fix up the heater before the trip, because he wasn’t about to let Stan freeze his balls off after he’d just begun to recover from his years in Colombian prison.

“Ya didn’t have to come, y’know. I could’ve done this alone.”

The gravelly, soft voice stirred Miko out of his thoughts. Next to him, Stan had his eyes glued to the road, his mouth a downwards curve.

Stan was a handsome man despite everything his body had gone through these past years. He’d stubbornly stuck to the worn-out jacket Miko had lovingly dubbed “the hobo jacket”, had heavy bags under his eyes, a pudgy belly, and a five o’clock shadow. Actually, it could’ve been _because_ of those things that Miko found him as irresistible to look at as he did. That, and the fact that Stan was built like a brick house. Even after he stopped taking lessons, Stan still considered himself a boxer, and he had the strong, muscular arms to prove it, something Miko had noticed right away the first time he’d laid eyes on him. Miko thought about those arms a lot, how it’d feel if they held him close, if they—

No. Not the time for wistful fantasies.

“If you say that one more goddamn time, Stan, I will open this door right now and throw myself into the snow, I swear.”

Stan shifted in his seat, the leather groaning in protest. “I’m just sayin’. I saw a nice little inn on the way over, a-and my brother is kinda oblivious when it comes to common sense stuff. Wouldn’t surprise me if his house didn’t have a heating system.”

“We’re already almost there, and I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Stan pressed his lips together. “Could ya hand me a cigarette? My nerves are killing me.”

“Dude, this is the third one in an hour.” Even as he said it, though, Miko was already fishing for one in the glove compartment. He took the lighter Stan always had on hand and lit it for him, taking a drag himself before handing it to Stan.

The man took the cigarette between two fingers and took a long drag. He exhaled with a shaky breath. “Ya shouldn’t be doing that, if we’re both hooked, we’ll never quit.”

“I’ve been inhaling your smoke this entire trip, a little late for that. Your car smells like it smokes six packs a day even when you aren’t.” Miko gave Stan a smile in an attempt to coax one from the other man. “Look, you’ll be fine, there’s no way this can be any worse than some of the shit you’ve gone through. And you’ve got me, so I can hold your brother down or something if he tries anything. Or if you just wanna punch him.”

Stan gave him a look. “Cut that out, I already told ya that shit was my fault.”

Miko wanted to argue, but he bit back his tongue. They’d had this argument so many times he’d lost count. They always ended the same too, with Miko upset that Stan could blame himself for his shitty father kicking him out on the street when he was fucking _17 years old_ and his brother letting it happen, with Stan thinking that Miko was mad at him for defending Stanford.

So instead of making the man more nervous than he was, (if that was even possible) he decided to try a different approach. “Relax, I’m just trying to lighten the mood. He’s your brother, and I know how much you care about him, so I’ll play nice.”

“Not worried about you,” said Stanley, under his breath.

Miko wanted to say more, but the headlights illuminated a narrow road just like the directions said. The car crawled on it until they came across a small shack sitting in a snowy clearing. Miko had to admit, it looked pretty cozy. Or would have, had it not been for the barbed wire and the “Keep Out” signs littered around the place. “…Are the windows barricaded?”

Stan cut the engine, staring ahead in stunned silence.

“You sure this is the place?” Miko checked the instructions scribbled on the paper that had come with the postcard.

Stan scratched the back of his head. “I read it like ten times, I’m pretty sure this is it. It fits the description.”

“Should we, uh, bring the gun?”

Stan shook his head. He snuffed the cigarette in the ashtray they had between the seats. “No, it’ll scare him off. Stanford’s…well, he’s not skittish, per se, but he doesn’t like guns.” Stan glanced at Miko. “You sure you don’t wanna at least stay in the car? We’ve got gas, you can just keep the heat on…”

“Okay, that’s it.” Miko opened the door and stepped out of the car before Stan could protest. His boots crunched on the snow. Holy shit, it was colder than his ex’s heart out here. Even with a heavy jacket, Miko already began to shiver.

On the other side of the car, Stan stepped out, cursing the weather. He threw the door closed and walked over to Miko, slapping a pair of gloves on his hands. “You could’ve just said you weren’t staying.”

Miko slipped them on his already numb fingers. “I told you I’d get out if you asked me that shit again. Be thankful the car was stopped.”

Stan rolled his eyes, smiling for the first time in hours. “As if your punk ass would do it.”

Miko stuck his tongue out at him. “Come on, already. Hopefully, your brother has some food, I’m starving.”

Miko let Stan go on first. He walked up the wooden steps and stood in front of the door. His fist hovered over it. He glanced back at Miko.

Miko gave him a thumbs up.

Stan cracked another small smile. He took a deep breath. “Okay. You haven’t seen your brother in ten years. It’s fine. How bad could it be?”

He knocked once.

The door burst open, and a crossbow was shoved in front of Stanley’s nose before Miko could even blink. 

“HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?”

_Holy fucking shit—_

“Glad I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” Stanley just stared at his brother, managing an impressive calm for somebody having a weapon pointed at them.

The owner of the crossbow and the baritone, clearly unhinged voice was undoubtedly Stanley’s brother. The two had the same face, the same strong jawline, the same bushy eyebrows, same brown hair and eyes.

Stanford Pines was thinner than he probably should be for somebody who was supposed to be doing well for himself. He had obviously not been sleeping for at least a few days. That, or he was high as balls. Or both.

Stanford blinked at Stan a couple of times before lowering his crossbow. “Wait a minute. Who are you? And why do you look like…?”

He immediately raised his crossbow at Stan again, that unhinged expression back in his eyes. “Shapeshifter? How did you get out of your cryo-chamber?”

“Jesus, Sixer, what the _hell_?”

Stanford squinted his eyes at Stanley. “You’ve really done a terrible job! I am not that fat, nor do I have that awful mullet.”

“…You sure know how to flatter a guy, huh?”

Stanford took a long moment to finally take in Stanley’s appearance. His expression changed, his posture softening just a little bit. “Stanley?”

“Yeah. Who else were you expecting?” Stan seemed more annoyed than nervous, which was at least better than how Miko was feeling right now.

“It’s just you…you look like me,” said Stanford, in awe.

Ah. Right. Stanley had mentioned that he hadn’t started taking his shots until he “moved out”.

Stanley chuckled with a twinge of nervousness. “Well, yeah. We’re twins.”

An awkward silence filled the air.

Miko cleared his throat. “So. Um. Hi.”

Stanford snapped his attention to Miko as if he hadn’t noticed him standing there. He bristled, hands tightening against his weapon. “Who are _you_? How did you…”

Miko threw his arms up in the air, showing his palms. “Shit, dude, chill!”

Stan stood in front of Miko before Stanford could raise the weapon again. “Calm the hell down, Ford, he’s with me!”

Miko was pretty sure he was going to have a heart attack if things kept going like this.

“With you?” Stanford frantically glanced around the area.

Yup, he was definitely on _something_.

“Stanley, I told you I needed you to come _alone_.” He said, staring at Miko as if he expected him to attack him at any moment.

Stan squared his shoulders, staring at him with a tightened jaw. He rummaged through the pocket of his maroon coat. “What are you talking about, you just wrote a few words and an address.” He shoved the postcard in front of Stanford’s nose.

Stanford snatched it from him, scanning the postcard. His hand shook. “Ah. I. Suppose I…” He swallowed thickly. “Send him away, Stanley. I brought you here for something I need to talk to you about in private.”

Miko had promised Stan he’d be nice to his brother, but that had been before he’d seen _this_. “That’s not going to happen.”

Stan knew Miko, and they both knew how this would play out. Miko wasn't as stubborn as Stan, not by a long shot, but he liked to think he could stand his ground when he needed to. 

Stanley sighed. “Sixer, Miko’s saved my ass more time I can count, and I trust him.”

Stanford rubbed his face. “This isn’t one of your silly games, Stanley! This is important!”

Miko clenched his fists into tight balls. “Yo, what’s your _deal_ , man? You dragged his ass all the way here in the middle of no-where, and now you insult him? The fuck do you think you are?”

Stan put a hand over Miko’s chest. “Hey, _easy._ Why don’t we all just go inside and talk, _okay_? _”_

“For the love of…” Stanford threw his hands up in surrender. “Just. Get inside, quickly. We’ve been out here too long as it is.”

They did, with Stan staying close to Miko, even as Stanford continued to glance at Miko in a way that he'd retaliate if Miko so much as sneezed in Ford's direction.

The inside of the shack was heated, but that was the last thing on Miko’s mind as he took in the dark interior. No lights were on, and the entire place was covered in jars filled with specimens, stuff like animal skeletons and dead bugs. A few rocks and a lot of boxes covered at least half of the space. What he assumed was a dinosaur skull sat in the corner of the floor. It reminded him of an abandoned museum storage room. 

Miko flinched as the door lock clicked behind him.

Stanford grabbed a small flashlight and held it over Stanley’s left eye, then his right.

He started same process with Miko, but Stanley swatted his brother’s arm away just as tried to pry open Miko’s right eye. “Cut it out, you’re starting to freak me out.”

Miko was far past just being freaked out, but he’d keep that to himself. His palms were sweaty, and the room suddenly felt too hot. He peeled off his jacket and decided on holding it instead of hanging it somewhere.

“Right. Well. I was expecting you to come alone,” said Ford, turning the skull of a (he hoped fake) human skeleton head away from them. “But seeing as you insist on a guest, I’ll have to ask that you come with me. Miko…can stay in the kitchen.”

He disliked the way Stanford said his name, as if he couldn’t even trust the words themselves.

The bad feeling he'd gotten while they drove through the woods came back with a vengeance. 

Stanley’s own brother wouldn’t try to kill him, right? He wouldn’t go through all the trouble, and besides, that would be too fucked up. Then again, he seemed real intent on getting him alone with him, and they were in a town in the middle of nowhere in a house in the middle of nowhere. Miko was the only other person in the world who knew that Stan was here. There could not be a better place to murder someone.

“Stan, can I, uh, talk to you? Outside?” said Miko, grabbing Stan’s sleeve. “I think we left the car running…”

“What is that on your arm?”

In less than a second, Stanford’s tone had lost all pretense of formality. It didn’t even sound nervous or frightened like it had before.

Instead, it was laced with quiet, raw _fury_.

Even Stanley had noticed it. “Ford…?”

Stanford’s entire body was shaking. He pointed at Miko’s arm. “Where did you get that?”

Miko followed his gaze to the tattoo he’d gotten a few years back. 

While he had initially hated it he began to warm up to it over time since he found it so quirky. It looked like a little summoning circle, but instead of weird satanic symbols, there were these cute drawings surrounding a little triangle with a top hat. He’d figured it been from a cartoon or something, but he never found out what it was.

“It’s…a tattoo? M-my uncle came to Gravity Falls to visit his ex-girlfriend, said that he found this weird design when he was hiking with her. He liked it, so he wanted to try it out with me.” He forced out a laugh. “I was pissed drunk, so. Ah. I said why not.”

Stanford was staring at the tattoo as if he expected it to jump out of Milo’s skin and eat him. “Do you really think your tricks will work on me, _Bill_?” he said between clenched teeth.

“Who?” said Miko, backing away as Ford stomped over to him.

Miko became very aware of their height difference. He was glad he hadn’t tried to punch Stanford, because, despite the fact that he was sleep-deprived, the man could probably still beat the crap out of Miko in a few seconds. “Hey, c-calm down, man.” His back hit the door. “I-I don’t know a Bill, I’ve never known a Bill in my life!”

Stanford wasn’t listening. He pointed his crossbow at Miko.

Stanley grabbed Stanford in a chokehold. The crossbow fired, and Miko yelped, hitting the floor. The arrow sunk into the wood just where Miko had stood moments before.

Stanford struggled against Stanley’s hold on him, but Milo knew from experience that it was pointless. Even somebody close to Stanley’s physique wouldn’t be able to hold against the loss of oxygen, and Stanley had gotten the upper hand.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” said Stanley, grunting as he held his brother in place. “But you need to calm down before you hurt somebody!”

Stanford wheezed, clawing at his brother’s arms. “No…I can’t…he’ll possess…p-please.” After a few seconds, his body went limp in Stan’s arms.

Stanley took him out of the hold, catching his breath. He walked over to where Miko was slumped against the door and helped him up. “Jesus, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what…” He swallowed. “Are you okay?”

Miko nodded. He laughed, starting Stan. “Well, that went a lot worse than I could ever imagine.”

Stan huffed a nervous laugh of his own. “You’re telling me.” His expression sobered as he glanced back at his brother.

Stanford’s cheek was smushed against the floorboard. He was out, and judging by how exhausted he'd looked, it was safe to assume Stanford would stay that way for at least an hour.

Miko picked up his jacket from the floor, where he'd dropped it amidst the chaos. He shrugged it on. “Come on, we need to get the hell outta here.”

Stanley didn't move. He just frowned at his brother's sleeping body.

Miko knew that frown. “Stan…”

Stan slumped his shoulders. “I can’t leave him, Miko.”

“Dude, he pointed a _weapon_ at us!”

“Something’s wrong with him. He’s obviously in trouble, and he needs my help.”

“You needed his help for like ever, and he never gave it to you! Look, Stan, I know he’s your brother, and this isn’t easy to hear, okay? But he’s…not…ohmygodwhatthe _fuck_.”

“I know, I know,” said Stan, rubbing his arm. “A-and I get it if you…if you want to leave.”

“Stan.”

“Y-you don’t haveta explain, Miko. I understand you have every right—”

“ _Stan_.”

Stan blinked. “What?”

Miko pointed at Stanford. “Your brother’s awake and he has _glowing yellow eyes_.” 

Stan whirled around to face his previously unconscious brother.

The man had, in the few moments Miko had tried to warn him, gotten to his feet like a puppet being pulled up by strings. He had a smile that stretched too long and felt too unnatural to be on a human face. Those yellow eyes didn’t blink.

“Sweet Moses!” said Stan, stepping away from Stanford.

Looking back at this moment, Miko would always be impressed with himself and the fact that he hadn’t immediately fainted upon seeing what stood in front of him.

“WELL, WELL, WELL. LOOK WHAT WE HAVE HERE. IT’S IQ NUMBER TWO!”

That wasn’t Stanford’s voice. It was too shrill, and there was something eldritchly about the pitch, as if the voice itself was being amplified by some speaker.

“Who…what…” Miko’s voice sounded weaker than he’d prefer.

“BILL CIPHER’S THE FULL NAME. LIKE YOUR TATTOO, MIKO. GOTTA GIVE THE ARTIST PROPS. THEY GOT MY GOOD SIDE.”

“I’m dreaming,” said Miko. “I’m…”

He noticed Stanley trying to catch his attention.

They locked eyes.

Right. He needed to stay calm. Just like those other times. “A-are you trying to tell me I tattooed an actual demon on my arm?”

He just needed to make conversation. Just needed to keep him talking.

Bill-in-Stanford’s-body’s mouth twitched upwards to what should’ve been a smile, if Satan had reinvented smiles to be terrifying and feral. “THAT’S RIGHT. USUALLY, I’D BE THANKING YOU FOR KEEPING AN EYE OUT FOR ME,”

He pointed at the single eye in the middle of the triangle on his tattoo. Miko covered it without thinking, goosebumps prickling his skin.

“BUT YOU BEING HERE HAS ACTUALLY INTERFERED WITH MY PLANS. I GUESS THAT’S THE MULTIVERSE FOR YOU.” Bill chuckled as if he’d expected Miko to understand what the hell he was talking about. “SO, YOU KNOW. I’M GOING TO HAVE TO KILL YOU. NO HARD FEELINGS, IT’S JUST BUSINESS. SURELY YOU UNDERSTAND THAT, WORKING WITH GOOD OLD STAN—”

Stanley punched Bill square in Stanford’s cheek. Miko recognized the bronze knuckledusters even in the poor lighting.

Bill, to his credit, managed to stay up on his feet, that maniacal grin stretching even wider. “WHOO! WHAT A RUSH! MAN, PAIN IS A TRIP!”

Miko began searching for something to help, and his hands came across the now unloaded crossbow. Good enough.

“Stan, duck!”

He threw it at Bill. It hit him right in the face. Bill toppled over with a scream, hitting his head at the edge of the dinosaur skull. His smile vanished and his eyes rolled into the back of Stanford’s skull. He stilled.

Miko licked his dry lips. “Please tell me I didn’t kill him.”

Stan scurried over and felt his brother’s pulse. He let out a breath of relief. “No, we’re good.” He scanned the room, spotted what he wanted, and took a bundle of rope that had been stashed somewhere in the mess. “Miko, help me take him to a couch or something.”

Miko couldn’t form words, so he just nodded. When they did find one, they set Stanford on it and Stan got to tying his hands and legs. Once finished, Stan took a step away, then slid to the floor.

“Stan!” Miko went over to him.

“I-I’m fine,” he said, waving him off. “Just need a moment. Th-this is…”

“Batshit? Insane?”

“Those are some good choice words, yeah.”

Miko sunk to the floor with him.

“So my brother may or may not have just been possessed by a yellow, demonic triangle in a top hat.”

Miko sniggered, caught off guard by the sheer ridiculousness of it. “That’s what I got from what happened, assuming we’re not just really, really high right now.”

“When have you been high and saw the same shit as somebody else?”

“So we did both see the same thing?”

“Yup.”

“This is happening.”

“I think so.”

“Cool. Cool,” said Miko in a voice that may or may not have been shaky. Miko brought his knees to his chest. “This is…cool.”

Stan stared at the wall in front of him. Then, with a sigh, he put his hand on Miko’s shoulder. “You should probably go.”

“What are you talking about?”

Stan’s big brown eyes were filled with a sadness that made Miko’s chest ache, the kind of sadness that was worn with resignation. “You don’t have to pretend. I-I get it. This is way more than you thought, a-and I can’t blame ya. Hell, I thought things would finally settle down.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I just attract bad things.”

“You do realize that your brother was probably dealing with this demon triangle bullshit _before_ we came to Oregon, right? This is not your fault, and I will keep reminding you every day if I have to.”

“What are you saying?”

“I said I was staying and I meant it.”

“But…why?”

Oh, boy, this was not how he imagined this conversation going. Certainly not after almost getting killed by Stan’s brother and watching Stan beat up said brother. Twice.

If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t known if he’d ever have this conversation with Stan. He’d realized he had feelings for Stan a long time ago, but even to this day he had no idea if Stan liked Miko, or if he even liked _guys_. But he’s started this, and he would see it through.

“…I like you, Stan. A lot. In…in _that_ way.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Out of everything that had happened in the past half hour, Miko couldn’t believe that waiting for Stan’s reaction was scarier than almost getting impaled.

To his surprise, a warm, large hand took a hold of one of his. “You really mean it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Stan shrugged. “Well, it’s me.”

“Stan.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Miko pressed his lips onto Stan’s. His lips were chapped from the cold, but it still warmed Miko to feel them. He kept it chaste, not wanting to overstep.

The Stan cupped his face and pulled him into a deeper kiss, and suddenly overstepping was the last of his worries. It tasted like cigarette smoke, it was careful and sweet and Miko wanted to just stay here for hours, just doing this.

Stan grinned. “You really mean it.

“What, you think I help just any dying asshole who comes to my door?”

“Just figured it was my good looks.” Stan smiled.

“They don’t help if you smell like a donkey’s ass.”

The two of them laughed for a long time. At one point, Miko found himself wrapped around Stan’s arms, leaning into his chest. His eyes began to droop, but he didn’t let himself fall asleep. That probably wasn’t a good idea right now.

Miko was still tense, and he couldn’t deny that every so often he’d glance over at Stanford, expecting those awful yellow eyes to be staring at him, but he knew that whatever was going on, he’d face it with Stan, and that always made him feel brave enough to face whatever he had to.

**Author's Note:**

> Then Ford wakes up and totally ruins the moment. After a long, hard conversation in where Stan loses his shit after realizing his brother summoned a literal demon for science, he and Miko agree to help. Nobody falls into the portal. 
> 
> I didn't have to be extra and put Bill into this fic, but apparently I couldn't help myself.


End file.
